Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Little Lady, artist - Ed Sheeran. Album song 5, in the genre Поп
Date of issue: 22.06.2014
Record label: Warner Music UK
Song language: English
Little Lady |
Listen |
Little lady, this is just the worst way to spend your birthday |
It’s 30 degrees, Thursday |
You work late, you was with a perv making dirty fake love in his Mercedes |
Lady, the word 'rape' sums up events that take place every night |
You wanna get up but you know your legs will ache if you try |
And you remember that your punter went crazy last night |
You drag yourself to the mirror to check your face then you cry |
Forget the visit to the clinic you were booked in for |
You’ll make a trip to the Whittington where they’ll look at your jaw |
They’ll be inquisitive and ask about your business for sure |
They’ll know you’re fibbing if you tell them you got hit by a door |
But young woman |
The pimp sees you as nothing but a dumb hooker |
Medical attention could be fatal |
'Cause the cunt wouldn’t ever let a doctor near someone that’s getting dough |
for him |
'Cause next you got poxy authorities sticking their noses in |
She’s just under the upper hand |
And goes mad for a couple grams |
And she don’t wanna go outside, tonight. |
'Cause in the pipe she’ll fly to the motherland and |
Sell love to another man |
It’s too cold outside, for angels to fly. |
For angels to fly. |
Little lady, your mind you’ve made up |
Your injuries you can’t hide with make-up |
You need some medical advice, you make up |
A little lie to say just |
In case the doc opens his eyes and don’t decide to play dumb |
With any luck you’ll see the same dude who stitched your top lip |
Last year when your pimp just lost it |
He wouldn’t recognise you if you stared him in the face anyway |
'Cause all the heroin is making you age |
But you’re a heroine for taking the strain of being a prostitute and punching |
bag |
The funds you have left go where you’re from using Moneygram |
Mother had to get you out the motherland to study |
That was all she struggled to have a single daughter with the upper hand |
Little does she know you’re never coming back |
She put you in her brother’s hand only for him to formulate another plan |
He’s the fucking cause of your appalling state this summer |
Fancy that, you came to London to get pimped by your Uncle, damn. |
She’s just under the upper hand |
Goes mad for a couple grams |
And she don’t wanna go outside, tonight. |
'Cause in the pipe she’ll fly to the motherland and |
Sell love to another man |
It’s too cold outside, for angels to fly |
Now an angel will die, covered in white |
With closed eyes and hoping for a better life |
This time, we’ll fade out tonight, |
Straight down the line. |
Little lady, you’re trembling with fear |
Your skinny frame kinda resembles a deer |
You’re sitting facing the detective, oh dear |
The meddling nurse couldn’t just leave it, |
She’s only gone and made it much worse calling police in |
She’ll never know the gravity of the damage she’s caused |
You’re causing scandal going mad in the ward now |
The cop is trying to calm you, telling you he won’t let no one harm you |
The same question he keeps trying to ask you, 'Who you working for?' |
He’s talking to you like you’re worth more than a dirty whore |
You’re having a conversation you could be murdered for |
You’re learning more about exactly why you need to help bring him or her to |
court |
It’s kicking knowledge you ain’t ever heard before |
Just before he leaves, he reassures you that he knows that it’s hard |
He underlines a mobile number you can phone on his card |
Begs you to use it |
He’s useless if you’re gonna be stupid |
'Cause an answer hasn’t come from your bruised lips, you’re on your own |
You’ve gotta go and give your pimp what you owe |
You reach your door and then it dawns that you’ve been followed home |
Before you turn around you feel a cold blade on your throat |
And then a voice says, 'Where you been bitch? |
I wanna know.' |
No prizes for guessing who it is, resistance would be foolishness |
You open the front door, he boots you in |
There’s something new in him, he’s silent now that fills you with terror |
Get your alibi straight, you could be killed for an error |
He towers over you, the 6 inch knife catches the sunlight |
At this point your life flashes before your eyes |
Your handbag’s dropped and all the contents are all over the floor |
Despite the mess there’s only one thing that’s caught his eye |
And in the moment of rage, he brutally murders his niece |
And dumps her body in the boot of his Merc in the street. |
Little lady left this earth in the worst way |
All because she got a card on her 13th birthday |
And we’re all under the upper hand |
And go mad for a couple grams |
And we don’t wanna go outside, tonight. |
'Cause in the pipe she’ll fly to the motherland and |
Sell love to another man. |
It’s too cold outside, for angels to fly, for angels to fly, and fly fly, |
For angels to fly, to fly, to fly, angels to die |